


just fine

by Anonymous



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Light Angst, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The city only glows as faintly as the stars.





	just fine

**Author's Note:**

> written for the blackhawks fic fest 2017. originally for the reel_1998 fest. a plot bunny that did not want to die in the final days of writing our rotg au. this is a pacific rim au. this is only a scene. 
> 
> background: patrick and jon were co-pilots. artemi replaces jon. artemi is a girl.
> 
> dialogue prompt: you need to wake up because i can’t do this without you.
> 
> all the kisses to hippietoews for all the pain i put her though.

It's become a nightly habit to come out onto the helicopter pad to just lay out and listen. The helicopter sits behind him tonight. It rarely makes nighttime trips. It's not safe nor necessary. 

Patrick walks out to the end of the platform, the sound of his steps muted by the rising tide below. He pauses, hands tucked into his jacket, and looks out to the shoreline. Buildings erected years ago remain abandoned. Most of the city population has moved inland. The economy can only handle rebuilding after so many kaiju attacks. It became pointless. Their unit has more or less kept them safe for those that remained, but the city only glows as faintly as the stars. 

It's colder than he'd like, but he's growing accustomed to the climate here. He prefers to wear gloves even now. There's a break in the railing with handlebars screwed into the wall below that lead to a small platform, where mechanics manually repair the operations of the helicopter pad. Patrick's never asked. He jumps down, not bothering with the last four bars. 

From here the Shatterdome obscures the city. He sits at the railing, leg dangling over the end. Laying down his thick jacket keeps the chill of the metal at his back from seeping through, but his lower body isn't as fortunate. Eyes closed he takes a deep breath and counts slowly as he releases it. He clears his mind and focuses until it feels like the earth moves beneath him. 

He's drifting off to light sleep - even with the crisp air making it hard to stay warm - when he hears the doors slide open. The sound is distant, but part of his mind waits for it. No one can see him from the helicopter pad. Except somehow Artemi did once. He hadn't heard her come down and thought he was dreaming that anyone was there with him. Until she kicked him in his side, never one to be gentle. He grunted in pain, but otherwise didn't acknowledge her. This was his spot. She couldn’t take that away. 

Yet she did in a way. He hopes she comes now, so he can lean his head against her legs as she sits on the edge, a nice warmth against the chilly night. She doesn't talk, doesn't question why he's out here or try to sustain some small talk. She idly runs her fingers through his hair with such softness. He could truly fall asleep, even as uncomfortable as the position may be on his body. His mind is at ease.    

He draws himself upright as the steps near, arms draped over the lower railing. He needs this right now. 

"Hey." The voice displaces him from any sense of balance, driving his mind into overdrive. He tilts his head back. Above him is Jon.  

There's no real reason to freak out. It's only Jon. And yet it's easier to close his eyes. "Hey," he responds with a shaky breath. 

He's imagining Jon looking at him so intently, expectant. He clenches his jaw, trying to contain the flood of his emotions. This isn't what he wanted. Not now. 

"Were you expecting Artemi?" It takes Patrick by surprise. As far as he knows, no one is aware he's out here. He's not sure how Artemi found him, but he assumed this was his. Theirs. He doubts Artemi said anything. She never mentions it. 

He shakes his head, hoping Jon doesn't ask more from him. He doesn't know if he can trust his voice. 

The silence between them extends until Jon offers, “You've gotten stronger.” 

He can't fight his words. “You haven't.”  

“I'm fucking trying over here.” His words are curt. He can imagine Jon turning away, already sees him walk away. 

But Patrick wants him to know this. “I can't fucking do this without you.” He gets up and turns, looking up at Jon, waiting for him to say something. He's not sure what he wants or expects, but there Jon is, standing with one foot poised to walk away. Patrick finally allows himself to look at Jon's left arm, wishing it wasn't true.  

Jon sees him and clenches his right fist. "You've done just fine without me." 

Just fine is enough to wake up each morning with nightmares – reliving the cruel moments of this intergalactic war, never knowing when their last fight will come. Thinking it already has. Part of him is grateful that his jaegar isn't ready, but he sits with this restless energy that wears at him. He needs to be doing something. Training can only distract his mind so much. Nothing feels right anymore. 

Patrick laughs. "Just fine, _Captain_." His smile is cold. Because, really, between the two of them, even accounting for Jon's injury, Jon's the one that has been promoted, that doesn't have to fight, that doesn't have to put his life on the line firsthand. Jon has done just fine for himself. He doesn't need Patrick anymore. 

Or rather, Jon never needed Patrick, and Patrick is slowly realizing how much he needed Jon. 


End file.
